


Any Excuse

by Danruu



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Chantry Sex, M/M, PWP, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 14:33:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3981655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danruu/pseuds/Danruu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Templar days Samson/Cullen having a quickie in the Kirkwall Chantry... PWP</p>
            </blockquote>





	Any Excuse

**Author's Note:**

> Moving my shameless smuts over to AO3 for fun... 
> 
> Have some chantry sex.

It was always the quiet ones.

Samson had risked a broken nose to see if the signals he’d been getting from his new roommate had been accurate, and he’d been rather fortunate to find that not only were they accurate, but that Cullen Rutherford seemed eager to please regardless of when and where Samson initiated. He had a feeling Cullen hadn’t been like this back in Ferelden, but he was twenty and far from home, wasn’t that normal? 

Samson had heard the rumours of what had happened at Kinloch Hold course, but it wasn’t his place to be Cullen’s counsellor, not when being his lover was far more fun for them both.

Two years ago the idea of missing a Chantry service to fool around with someone would have been unheard to Samson, he’d been a model Templar under Knight-Commander Guylian after all, but since Meredith had taken over as Knight-Commander the services had become a lot less about the Maker’s endless love for all people, and more about how everyone was awful but especially mages.

Samson was happy to find an excuse to miss another sermon, and today’s excuse was Cullen. As the Templars filed into the Chantry, Samson sidled up to the younger man with a wolfish grin that Cullen recognised almost immediately, raising an eyebrow.

Before Cullen had any chance to protest, and before anyone noticed, Samson pushed them both into a side room, shutting the door behind them. He was on Cullen in an instant, kissing him hungrily and forcing his tongue into the reluctant mouth.

“Really? Here?” Cullen hissed, trying to look unimpressed even as Samson’s hands started to move up under his robes.

“I didn’t take you for the type to get shy.” Samson grinned. Cullen had dropped to his knees in the corner of the Gallows just two days ago; this was far more secure by comparison. He hoped. It was only fun if they didn’t get caught.

“I’m not shy, just trying to maintain some level of dignity.”

“Hard to do with your skirts hoisted up like a naughty noble lady, am I right?” That earned Samson an indignant huff from Cullen that he tried to silence with a well-timed kiss to those lips he’d skipped the Chant for.

“That’s not funny Sam,” Cullen tried to protest, words failing as Samson’s hands wandered valiantly up under fabric. “You know these aren’t skirts, they’re robes, and are a very important part of the Templar uniform as well as… and…” He trailed off as Samson’s hands groped his thighs. “Oh whatever, just fuck me quick before someone misses us…”

“Well well… Anyone would think you’d been expecting something Cullen?” Samson was practically beaming at the discovery that Cullen wasn’t wearing any smallclothes under his robes, grabbing a handful of bare arse just to make Cullen yelp and stifle himself with his hand.

Cullen mumbled something, but the sudden sound of a hymn starting in the main hall covered his words. Samson considered that fate, and dropped to his knees in front of the arse he liked so much. “What are you…” Cullen started, until the press of Samson’s tongue made it painfully obvious what he was doing. Samson shifted closer on his knees, letting Cullen’s robes fall over him wherever they fell as his hands gripped a cheek in each hand so he could continue.

Perhaps a Chantry storeroom wasn’t the best place to be distracted by Cullen’s glorious arse, but there was a service going on, no one was going to discover them. Or so Samson hoped, because he didn’t think he could stop right now even if he wanted to. The sounds Cullen was making, even while biting his fist to try and stop himself moaning like a worker at the Rose, were better than any Chantry hymn right now.

So he kept going, his tongue thrusting lazily in and out of Cullen’s hole until the other man was a panting mess against the wall. He’d stopped listening to the sounds of the service outside, concentrating too hard on what they were doing between these four walls.

“Please Sam…” Cullen mumbled against his arm.

“Hm?” Samson didn’t stop what he was doing, but he slowed down enough to listen. They played games like this in their quarters too, just because Samson liked to wind Cullen up.

“Sammy… Please.” Cullen sounded more than a little frustrated, his voice wavering, which made Samson grin and lean back, nipping at one pert cheek before standing up again. If they had more time he’d spend hours with his face buried in Cullen’s arse, but time was a luxury they had little of in the Order.

Samson gave his neglected cock a few strokes, spitting into his palm to help the glide. Cullen was practically waving his arse at him and Samson offered his own little prayer of thanks up to the Maker for that as he pushed up the robes again.

One hand on Cullen’s back, one on his cock to help guide it in, Samson pushed, moaning too loud at the tight heat of the other man’s body. Cullen made a noise more of discomfort than of pleasure, but the pleasure was still there, so Samson waited only a moment for him to adjust before rolling his hips.

“Fuck me Sammy.” Cullen finally breathed out, a hand already close to his mouth in case he needed to stifle himself. And Samson certainly planned for him to do that as he suddenly grabbed Cullen’s hips with both hands and drove into him hard.

He wasn’t gentle, they had to be quick and he knew it even as he’d teased. The singing outside had stopped, and the faint hum of the Grand Cleric was all they could hear of the service over their own suppressed moans and gasps and the familiar sound of skin against skin.

His orgasm came unexpectedly when another hymn started and Cullen moaned his name so unashamedly that Samson was pushed right over the edge. He didn’t think he’d ever heard anything so erotic in all of his life. And he didn’t want to now. “Holy shit…” He muttered as he caught his breath, hands still gripping Cullen’s hips.

Cullen was panting, but for a different reason, his cock still hard and aching between his legs. Samson didn’t even bother to pull out as he slid a hand round to stroke the other man, spreading the pre-come that had gathered over the length as he jerked him off. Still not gentle, hard and rough that still had Cullen spilling onto the inside of his robes with a muffled cry.

“There we go. With no mess either.” Samson grinned, finally pulling away and readjusting himself, not taking his eyes off Cullen. There was something so satisfying about watching his seed begin to trail down the blond’s inner thighs, and knowing it would there for a while yet, hidden under those robes… it was almost enough to make him grab Cullen for a second round.

“I can’t believe I just did that….” Cullen groaned, looking uncomfortable and flushed much to Samson’s delight. They carefully opened the door of the storeroom, slipping out and into the back of the Chantry as if they’d been there all along. No one even so much as glanced at them. 

Leaning against the back wall Cullen made a face, his voice low as he spoke to Samson. “Do you think anyone noticed we were missing?”

Samson chuckled. “Well the Maker probably did, but what does he care?”

The look on Cullen’s face would be worth the Void, he was sure of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at http://stripeydani.tumblr.com/


End file.
